


hope is persistent, the silence more so

by jelly_pies



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Tony Stark, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, POV Pepper Potts, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelly_pies/pseuds/jelly_pies
Summary: Pepper isn't sure what's worse: the hope, or the silence.Seventeen days ago, Tony had disappeared in an alien spaceship. Pepper begged him not to, because honestly, what was she supposed to do? Let her fiancé go back up there when the first time Tony did that exact same thing, with a goddamn nuke on his back, he had barely made it home?What follows is weeks of work and nightmares, of hope and silence. But it’s a normal day when Pepper’s life changes forever. Pepper had thought nothing could be worse than an unanswered hope.She was wrong.
Relationships: Pepper Potts & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	hope is persistent, the silence more so

Pepper isn't sure what's worse: the hope, or the silence.

Silence is suffocating. It’s the emptiness after she’s spent all her tears, the planet-wide depression that falls about two weeks after the Decimation. It’s the tiredness in her employees’ eyes when Pepper goes to Stark Industries, and in the Avengers’ eyes when she comes back to the Compound. It’s the universal sense of holding one’s breath, waiting for a miracle. Waiting for permission to mourn.

It’s what follows the beep on her fiancé’s voicemail.

But hope? It’s what keeps her going through all of it. And Pepper isn’t sure what’s worse.

-

Outside all is silent, but inside her, Pepper is loud. Roaring.

Waterfalls. Pepper remembers vacationing with Tony years ago, in one of the more exotic locations. They’d just started dating then, and god, how hard she had fallen. He had grinned as he pulled her into the water, laughed as they swam directly under the falls and felt the weight of the falling water on their heads. She had relished the unique pressure, and smiled into the kiss they shared under the roaring falls.

Underwater. Crushing. Loud. Pepper jerks awake.

It’s still dark. The moon bathes her Compound room in a warm glow. And everything is completely, painfully silent.

Pepper scoots over to the other side of the bed, where the sheets aren’t drenched in sweat. Where the pillows are cooler. Everything is colder on the empty side of the bed.

Seventeen days ago, Tony had disappeared in an alien spaceship. Pepper begged him not to, because honestly, what was she supposed to do? Let her fiancé go back up there when the first time Tony did that exact same thing, with a goddamn nuke on his back, he had barely made it home?

Would it have been better if Tony had listened to her? Stayed on the planet and fought with the others in Wakanda? Maybe then, Pepper would have at least found out if Tony had been killed in battle. Or found out if he was among the dusted. Maybe then, she would at least know if this painful hope she’s been holding on to for two weeks is worth anything.

The pressure of a waterfall still crushing her chest, Pepper drifts fitfully back to sleep.

-

If the nightmares hurt, waking up is even worse.

But Pepper keeps moving, as she always has. Because she could. She handles SI’s falling stocks, handles relief and counseling initiatives for their employees, handles the public clamor about Iron Man. Because when Pepper Potts’ home suddenly vanishes, she copes by keeping herself moving.

Because the busyness is better than the silence. Because she could.

It’s only in her sleep that Pepper can’t move.

-

“What, no goodbye kiss?”

Tony grins at her in her dreams. That carefree picture-perfect grin, the unkempt, swept-back hair a million girls — and boys — had fallen for. But the look in Tony’s eyes, that one’s reserved only for her. Pepper steps back off the jet staircase, slides into his arms, and kisses him in the middle of the tarmac.

She remembers making that promise sometime after the Chitauri, after the wormhole. She remembers the day she fully realized that any goodbye with Tony could be her last.

“What, no goodbye kiss?”

It’s Pepper who says it this time. Tony leans over the hospital bed, kissing her softly. “Not goodbye. I’ll be right here.”

Pepper glances at the charts and the monitors, the red patches indicating the Extremis in her body. Cho’s team wasn’t able to remove it completely that day, only stabilize it, but she remembers feeling in that moment how little it really mattered. With Tony she feels safe, with this man who treated her unexciting surgery with more concern than his own daredevil antics. With Tony she knows her fears of losing him aren’t unreciprocated.

Maybe that’s not the kind of thing normal people are consciously grateful for in their partners. But Pepper and Tony were never a normal couple.

The dream shifts again. Pepper is standing on the edge of a cliff, the remains of their Malibu home in the churning sea below her. Tony’s helmet in her hands. Unprompted, FRIDAY replays their last message.

_God, no, please tell me you’re not on that ship._

_Honey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say._

_Come back here, Tony. I swear to god. Come back here right now. Come back._

This part of the nightmare is different. This part of the nightmare still hadn’t ended.

The wind blows cold around her. Pepper holds the helmet up to her head, presses their foreheads together until it hurts. “What, no goodbye kiss?”

-

It’s a normal day when Pepper’s life changes forever.

“Pepper. Pepper, Danvers has them. They’re coming home.”

Dumbfounded, she stares blankly into Rhodey’s earnest eyes. His drooping eyes. Pepper had once thought nothing could be worse than Afghanistan, for both of them. She was wrong.

“Tony… Tony is—?”

“He’s alive.” Rhodey delivers the words flatly, matter-of-factly, as if they weren’t the three simple syllables his and Pepper’s world had hinged on for the past weeks. He starts to add more, but then swallows it down, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Pepper feels the unspoken continuation like a knife in her gut.

“But?” she hears herself whisper.

“But…” Rhodey takes both her hands in his. Pepper didn’t even realize she’d clenched them. Rhodey just holds them like that, gripping tightly, but not enough to hurt. Sharing his strength. “But.”

Pepper had thought nothing could be worse than an unanswered hope. She was wrong.

-

They bring him out on a gurney.

Pale is an understatement. Tony’s skin is practically fucking white. White except where Cho pulls his shirt back, where the skin and the pus and that godawful wound paint a gruesome black-green-yellow rainbow on his stomach.

“Tony.”

“Pepper… you know he can’t hear—”

“God, oh god, _Tony.”_

The next few days are anything but normal.

-

“I had to inform you, Ms. Potts. But as of this time, this procedure is just a possibility.” Cho’s eyes are firm with a responsibility and a clearness Pepper knows all too well.

“How big of a possibility?”

“With Tony’s results, pre-existing conditions, and his response to the other treatments so far…”

“Helen. Is this our only hope?”

Her silence is an answer.

-

“We have the lab tests back, and… this is still our best option.”

“It’s been one week, Dr. Cho, maybe with—”

“No, Colonel Rhodes, there’s just — there’s absolutely nothing more viable. I’m sorry. I am… I’m truly sorry.”

Rhodey slumps. Pepper doesn’t. She’s already decided hope is more cruel than silence.

-

“Pepper.”

“Rhodey, please, I can’t fight you on this again—”

“You know you don’t have to do this.”

“No, James, I know I do. I know I do. You know I do.”

-

“One last drink?”

“Okay, Rhodey. For the road.”

“Don’t say that.”

They bring it out on one of the Compound’s rooftop decks. Rhodey’s bottom lip quivers just looking at her. Pepper, on the other hand, and much to her own surprise, feels even calmer than she looks. But she isn't fooled. Neither is he.

“You gotta hold out hope, Pepper.”

“I think it’s easier to do that for others than for yourself.”

-

“I’ll see you after the surgery. I’ll see you both.”

Pepper gives Rhodey a sad smile, and decides not to contradict him.

“Whatever happens… will you give him this for me?”

“You’re not gonna kiss me, are you, Potts?”

The effort falls kind of lame, but Pepper still laughs. She reaches over to the man she considers almost like a brother, had thought of that way for years. And hugs him hard.

As their embrace stretches out, so does the silence.

-

It’s not just Pepper’s nightmares that are filled with Tony. Her dreams are, too.

Except this time, it’s not loud. It’s not painful. Tony smiles at her, and neither has to say a thing.

This time, Pepper’s mind is quiet.

-

-

-

Nights at the Compound are cool and still. The stars twinkle overhead, the sky stretching in a black canvas. The sky that had held both hope and despair this past month. Pepper steps out onto the balcony, feeling like she’s stepping into a picture.

Tony leans against the railings. Even with his back to her, Pepper can tell he’s had a nightmare. His thin sleeping clothes don’t keep out the cold breeze; she sees him shiver, but he stays where he is.

Pepper steps closer, and she sees the bandages that extend all the way across his torso and his back, where they peek out from under Tony’s tank top. She steps closer, and she sees the way his shoulders shake. She steps closer, and she sees the tears dropping off his chin. Tony shivers.

“Tony.” There are a thousand things Pepper wants to pour into that one word. _Tony, I’m here. Tony, look at me. Tony, say something._

He had always told her everything. Avengers business, SI gossip, family matters, Pepper and Tony had always shared everything.

He doesn’t say anything now.

Tony keeps staring into the distance. His eyes are red. His hands clutch her phone.

Pepper swallows. Her phone. Her holographic message, left behind on FRIDAY.

She lays a hand gently over the small of Tony’s back, even though she knows it won’t do anything. Tony shivers.

He remains silent, so Pepper leans out over the railings until she can look in his eyes. Tony’s eyes hold the stars. His fingers pass over the phone, and the audio of her message plays, for the millionth time that day.

“Tony.”

Pepper closes her eyes. Tony can hear this now. Can hear her.

She listens to her own voice explaining the past few weeks. Explaining Tony’s return. Explaining the one solution Cho had been able to hold out. She listens to herself bare her heart to the man she loves.

“Tony, whatever happens tomorrow, with my Extremis, I — I just want you to know. I did this because I could. Because I could, I could keep the world running, but Tony — you can save it. If there’s an answer to this, some far-flung solution to, to the Decimation, it’s you who can find it.” Pepper lets her own words wash over her, knowing that she still believes it. Still believes in him.

Tony bows his head while the rest of her message plays. Pepper knows he has a hard time accepting her decision, but she has always tried to make decisions with her head rather than her heart. And this time, both were in agreement.

Pepper has always put her trust in people. What she did for Tony Stark, she did because she trusts him.

“What am I rambling on for?” recording-Pepper finishes. “If this works out… however this works out… it will be exactly the way it’s meant to.”

Tony breaks out in sobs now, shattering his silence. Pepper leans closer to him. Tony shivers.

“No goodbye kiss. I’ll be right here.” The message ends.

The night is cold, too cold. And still. Too still.

Slowly, Pepper places her hand on top of Tony’s. It passes right through.

Tony shivers.

Somewhere, deep inside her where she hides all the impossible things, Pepper knows that even through Tony’s grief, she still holds out hope. Hope that Tony can feel her anyway, even if he can’t hear her voice. Hope that he will move on, save the world, save himself. Hope that he can forgive her.

Maybe it’s an empty hope. Maybe she just wants to keep thinking of the Extremis extraction as something she did for Tony, not something she did _to_ him. Because the one thing Pepper knows she could never do, the one thing she could never forgive herself for, is breaking Tony’s heart.

But Pepper knows she already did that, when she died.

The night stretches out. Tony still clutches the phone wordlessly. Pepper still stands beside him, as she always has. As she always will.

But she still isn’t sure what’s worse: the hope, or the silence.

**Author's Note:**

> This popped out as an offshoot idea while writing my other Pepperony fic, So long as you’re home. They’re not set in the same series, though. (That story has a happy ending, for example.)
> 
> Yell at me on [ tumblr](https://jelly-pies.tumblr.com/)? :)


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